Crimson Dragon's Scale
by greenleaf-in-bloom
Summary: Harry is taken by Voldemort, and when he escapes, all is going according to plan for the Dark One. OotP AU.
1. Part One

Hermione twisted around to stare at the door again. Still closed. Room still empty. Please Ginny don't follow me, she begged silently. Please Ginny, don't, don't.  
  
Ginny didn't open the door. No one opened the door. She heard no footsteps on the stair and was grateful to them.  
  
"Oh, Harry," she moaned to herself. "Harry. Harry. Why Harry."  
  
Dumbledore's lead voice crushed her again, the image of his frantic, stunned, bleeding face ironed across her eyes. His voice.My God, they took him. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't stop them; I couldn't do anything. They took him, right in front of me, they took his wrists and he didn't look back. I have to go after him, but I can't. I can't do anything. I have to be stronger to get him out.  
  
And the look on Ron's face, his mouth open, his eyes uncomprehending like they had been in second year when Ginny was missing. The eyes that realized this was a dream, the same eyes at the same time realizing it wasn't.  
  
Ginny stumbling back from the Headmaster, tripping, running backwards into the wall. And whispering No.  
  
Just a little word. Just a little word, but with all the weight of a mountain.  
  
Dumbledore sinking into a chair, still looking stunned, still looking asleep, blood dripping onto the already crimson chair from the gash in his forehead, the wide gash, the mockery of Harry's scar. They must have used a twelve-man magic shield, and taken his wand, and bound him to do that, Hermione thought. They beat Dumbledore. How could they? It was impossible. He was all-powerful, wasn't he? He could do anything, couldn't he?  
  
She remembered Harry's voice on the train on the way to school this year, stumbling words trying to describe the cold fury in Dumbledore's face that he had seen, and remembered imagining it.  
  
They took us by surprise, Dumbledore had said. Harry just turned around, and they flung him backward hard and Stunned me. I thought he was dead. I thought they'd killed him.and when I woke up.  
  
And he hadn't been able to continue. He had sat down in the chair then.  
  
She remembered Ron saying something about Sirius, and then the strange feeling she had gotten, and Ron's faraway voice asking her what he could do, Hermione where are you going? Hermione!  
  
The door still didn't open.  
  
Chapter One: Blood of Seventeen  
  
Voldemort stood in the center of the circle, one cruel, icicle hand on Harry's shoulder. Around them stood the circle of seventeen men, each wearing a black robe, each with their wrists bared, each trying to decide whether to smile or grimace. Only Danath Avery seemed to have decided, his chin high, his eyes on his master and his master's prisoner, a ready, confident smile on his face, his eyes grey steel.  
  
Wormtail was the only one not in the circle. He stood outside the circle, deftly working with something.Harry had not seen as he passed. What he had seen was Pettigrew's sneer and the silver hand and his dark eyes. They were less watery than the first time Harry had seen them. They were more startling now. The contrast between his eyes and his pale face was strange, and the way they mixed was unpleasant.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was gritting his teeth and staring at Harry. Harry was puzzled as to the reason they had not already killed him, and as he tried to twist to look at Pettigrew he thought of his parents, and of his wand that lay discarded on the ground still as far as he knew. At least Dumbledore had escaped. But the look in Dumbledore's eyes had been frightening. He hadn't been the radiating power source. Something had been wrong. He hadn't been ready.  
  
Harry felt the hand on his shoulder tighten, and expected the equally frozen voice to speak in his ear. But it didn't. No one spoke. No one in the circle moved.  
  
Harry thought of Sirius. He thought of Sirius and Hermione and Ron and decided that he had to do something. What was he doing? He was standing in one place, Voldemort's hand on his shoulder as if the Dark Lord was his father or uncle or teacher. They would kill him! They would kill him, and then there would be no hope. He had to do something. Thus, he would do something.  
  
He hung his head then, and stared at his empty hand, and wondered what to do.  
  
The snake, Nagini, hissed softly, her eyes staring up at the black-haired boy. Harry thought of snakes; of the Chamber of Secrets, of Nagini before, of Cedric Diggory and his grey eyes that haunted Harry, but then again of Nagini in the dream before the World Cup, and of the boa constrictor.  
  
And he remembered staring at the glass, in the zoo, almost five years ago, and of wishing, wishing and hoping and praying that something would happen, because he had been angry.  
  
Sometimes, he remembered a voice saying, a wizard can do magic without a wand. Without an incantation, some of them. And certain spells. But not all the time. Emotions spark it, of course. Strong emotions.  
  
He thought of the anger that had coursed through him when Dudley had pushed him to the floor, and the wish that the boa constrictor could be free of its prison, and how it had been so.  
  
He wondered how angry he could get, and tried again to look at Wormtail.  
  
***  
  
Hermione lay on her bed, almost lifeless, unmoving, her eyes closed, tearstains on her cheeks, her breath peaceful. Ginny sat down quietly on the bed next to her, miserable and frightened and cold.so cold, Tom.please, Tom, tell me what to do.what is happening to me.and Tom, he's so brave. I could never do what he did last year. I think I love him, Tom.I know he could never love me too. I'm his best friend's little sister. But Tom, I want so badly for him to care for me, to understand me.I know I'm young. But I want him to understand me like you do.  
  
She shivered. To understand me like you do.but Tom had understood her too much. He had known her more than she knew herself. She thought of the chamber, and his smile - that cold, cold smile.  
  
So cold, Tom.  
  
Ginny's eyes rolled into her head with a gasp, and she fell limply to the floor like a discarded doll.  
  
***  
  
Ron pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged Harry's pillow to him. He didn't care how it looked when his tears fell on it, and he didn't care that he was fifteen and too old to cry. He just cried, and he cried, and he thought about meeting Harry on the train for the first time, and being stunned, and wondering what it must have been like for Harry. The surge of guilt that he had nothing to share back except dry corned beef.  
  
The panic when Hermione woke him up in the chessroom and he saw Harry wasn't there, and the blood on the back of his head, and the look on Dumbledore's face. Nothing could compare to this. Nothing.  
  
He wondered vaguely if Hermione and Ginny were all right, and set the damp pillow on Harry's bed and tripped down the stairs, and tripped up them to the girls' dormitory.  
  
Ginny's room was empty, and he knew that they were in Hermione's. He stopped, his thin fingers inches from the knob, and heard nothing from inside.  
  
He slowly opened the door and looked inside.  
  
Hermione was asleep on the bed, her face damp, the back of her hand against her mouth limply, the other hand on her stomach. A shimmering warmth was on his back from the hallway, but the air in this room was cold, very cold. A single light cast a mockery of a warm glow around the room. It softened Hermione's features. A pale, harsh light would have fit more with the cold, and sharp grey steel shadows.  
  
He walked in to pull a blanket over her and gasped.  
  
On the other side of the bed, on the hard floor, was Ginny, hidden from sight from where he had been before. Her head was limp on the floor, her carrot-orange hair stained with a tint of blood, her skin translucent pale. He could see the light, almost nonexistant rise and fall of her chest, and her veins in her wrist, the blood pumping slower. The cold was radiating from her. The whites of her eyes were visible when he dropped to his knees and lifted her head, cradled it.her skin was like ice.  
  
"Oh my God." he whispered, feeling through her skin a slow, slow heartbeat. "Hermione!"  
  
Hermione woke instantly and silently. Then - "Ron, what - oh my God! What's happened to her?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't know. Go get help. Go get Dumbledore. Someone. Please."  
  
She complied with only the slightest hesitation and a frightened stare back at Ron, cradling the limp form of his younger sister.  
  
***  
  
Harry felt the hand on his shoulder tighten as he twisted slowly around, imagining his mother screaming, his father's voice, the Priori Incantatem effect, but he couldn't see Wormtail anymore, and he knew he would have to see him to be truly, very angry, to get his blood coursing like hot poison through his veins.  
  
But Voldemort still didn't say anything, and he still didn't move except for the tightening of his hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
Harry, Ginny's warm voice whispered suddenly in his head. Harry? What's going on? Where am I?  
  
I'm dreaming, her voice said.  
  
Ginny? Harry thought hard. Is this my imagination?  
  
Harry? What's happening? . she sounded frightened now.  
  
Where are you, Ginny? Where are you?  
  
I.I'm not here, where I'm seeing. I see you right in front of me, about a meter. But I was just in Hermione's room. I was just there, thinking about Riddle, and -  
  
Wait. It's not possible, there's no way.do you think he remembered you, and kept some degree of his power over you all these years?  
  
And then when I thought about him, he drew me here? Why?  
  
I don't know, Ginny. Try to wake up.  
  
But I'm not asleep, Harry. Now she sounded truly terrified. Harry, he's staring at me. He's staring right at me. Did he do it on purpose? He remembers me, I see it in his eyes, but he's surprised. Can't you see me? He can.  
  
No, I.he must have drawn you here by mistake. Maybe his power is hard to control.  
  
Harry, Dumbledore got back, he's bleeding, they cut him, and we're all terrified. Ron went into your room, crying.Hermione went white and bolted upstairs. I went up after her, about ten minutes later. She was asleep, and I thought about Riddle, and then I was floating in nowhere.I'm so cold.and then I was here.  
  
Ginny, I don't know where I am, but you're back at Hogwarts. You need to get back there. Tell Dumbledore not to come after me. Tell Sirius they haven't hurt me. Tell Ron not to worry. Tell Hermione I've escaped him before and I'll do it again. Please, try to go back, think of Hermione. What if she wakes up? Where's your body? It's not here, Gin. Don't think of Riddle. Look at me. If you ever want me to get home again, you have to go back. Try.imagine the room exactly as it was.okay?  
  
There was no answer. Ginny was gone.  
  
Voldemort jolted, and the Death Eaters stared silently. His hand squeezed Harry's shoulder until his shirt tore and cold daggers tore into his skin. Harry flinched. Voldemort looked faintly surprised, as if he hadn't realized what he was doing.  
  
From where Wormtail was, there was a dull thud, and Harry watched as a stone bowl was brought before him. It was not Pettigrew carrying it, but Lucius Malfoy. Harry tried to look at the substance inside it, but it looked like there was nothing there. Except the air inside the bowl kept rippling and shimmering.  
  
Voldemort nodded his consent to begin whatever it was they were doing. Lucius took his place in the circle, and the Dark Lord turned Harry slowly to watch. Lucius took out a small knife with a silver hilt and an emerald on the blade. As he looked closer, Harry saw snakes entwined around the silver of the hilt. He winced, wondering what part of him was going to be cut now. Would he lose a finger? A hand? What were they doing to him?  
  
But the Death Eater didn't slice into Harry's flesh. Instead he brought the sharp knife to his own wrist, and holding it over the bowl drew the knife slowly. His face was impassive.  
  
Three drops splattered into the bowl, splashing before they hit the bottom. The bowl looked as if it held red, dusty air.  
  
Lucius handed the knife and the bowl to the next Death Eater, Nott, who repeated the strange ritual. Nott handed it to Crabbe, who in turn slit his wrist and let the three scarlet drops fall and splash into red mist. Crabbe to Goyle. Around the circle the bowl was passed, and each of the seventeen men let three drops fall from their wrists.  
  
Then with the final, a man Harry didn't know but who he thought had been adressed as Rowe Mabil, the air coalesced and a small pool of blood fell into the bowl, a bit silvery. Then in perfect unison, each of the Death Eaters whispered:  
  
"We give our souls  
  
We give our blood  
  
Willingly accepting whatever fate has fortold.  
  
We offer the blood of seventeen loyal servants to you, Master."  
  
Lucius Malfoy brought the bowl forward. Harry stared at it with horror, willing himself to slap it out of Malfoy's hand. Then Wormtail stepped into view, and Harry got angry.  
  
Chapter Two: Blood, Ink, and Tears  
  
Dumbledore hurried into Hermione's room, his usual cool manner gone. Eerily, he had healed the wound on his forehead. It left a scar nearly identical to Harry's.  
  
"What happened?" he demanded, kneeling swiftly beside Ginny, oblivious of the cold as he lay the back of a knarled hand on her cheek.  
  
"I don't know," Ron said. "I came in to talk, and Hermione was asleep. I didn't see Ginny at first. What is it?"  
  
"I'm not sure," said Dumbledore grimly. "Has anything like this ever happened before? Anything at all? Even if it seems foolish."  
  
"Well, she was pretty cold when she came out of the Chamber of Secrets," Ron muttered. "But she's never fainted except that year, nothing like this. Nothing that I can think of.well, she started shivering like mad when she got around dementors too. But everyone feels cold near them, and I'd guess she was thinking about Riddle then."  
  
"So our only connection is Riddle," said Dumbledore softly. "Riddle, who is now Voldemort, who has taken Harry. Could their minds have crossed? Could Voldemort been thinking of Ginny and drawn her concience to him by mistake? Or on purpose?"  
  
Ginny gasped suddenly, and a blast of heat swept about the room and back into her. Her eyes opened and she started up. Dumbledore put a hand on her head to hold her in place. "Miss Weasley," he said gently. "What happened?"  
  
"I - sir, I don't know - I came in to see if Hermione was okay, and all of a sudden I felt cold, and then I remember falling.Then there was nothing, it was black, but I still felt like I was falling, and I was warmer, and still concious of what was happening. Then I saw You - Vold - the Dark Lord, and everything else sort of appeareed, fell into place. There was a circle of Death Eaters with Harry and him in the middle, and he could see me, but Harry couldn't and -"  
  
"Harry?!" Dumbledore said suddenly, and coughed. "You saw Harry?"  
  
"Yes, Professor. He couldn't see me, but I thought his name and he heard my thoughts. The Dark Lord wasn't expecting me to be there, and I talked to Harry for a minute, and he told me to imagine the room, because I had to get back.or he would die.I had to tell you not to go after him. And to tell Ron not to worry, and Hermione that he would get away again. And he said tell someone else.it sounded like he said Sirius. I don't know."  
  
"And you came back?" Ron said hoarsely. He was very pale suddenly.  
  
"Yes. But who's Sirius, or whoever? I thought Sirius Black at first but it must be some other Sirius."  
  
"No, it's Sirius Black." Ron's voice was heavy. "Of course - we didn't tell you."  
  
"But - Black is out to kill Harry! He killed all those people -"  
  
"No," Hermione said softly. "Ginny, he was framed - Sirius is innocent, he was never a Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew framed him."  
  
Ginny looked at Dumbledore, incredulous, and the headmaster nodded gravely.  
  
"What did he say to tell Sirius?" asked Ron. "Professor, have you found him, by the way?"  
  
"Sirius is going to Call."  
  
"He said to tell Sirius he was all right - that they didn't hurt him. I think. I was just so stunned. I thought maybe I was dreaming or something except I never fell asleep."  
  
"Was Harry hurt at all?" Hermione asked. "Was he just trying to reassure us?"  
  
"He looked tired. And Voldemort's hand was on his shoulder. But he didn't look hurt, not at all, just scared, and a bit angry." Ron started at his sister's mention of the name.  
  
"They took his wand," Dumbledore said glumly. "I'll have to send someone to get it. He was trying to get angry. I told him about wandless magic. You need strong emotions. Was Pettigrew there?"  
  
"I don't know.there was a man behind Harry, though. With a silver hand? Harry couldn't see him.he was doing something with a stone bowl."  
  
"Well," said Dumbledore quietly. "It appears our work is cut out for us. Ron, make sure the common room is empty, and if Sirius Calls - in the fire - tell him what happened, I haven't yet or it would make him frantic. He's with Charlie and Bill Weasley and Remus Lupin and I didn't want him panicked or he and the others might start to take foolish action, and I need them for the search.  
  
"Miss Granger, do you know how to Apperate?"  
  
"Theoretically," she said, looking embarassed. "I've never tried."  
  
"I'll tell you where. You'll have to get off the grounds first.go to Hogsmeade, the far end, off the grounds limits.and try to Apperate to the coordinates I'll give you, and find Harry's wand. Bring it back here. You might want to use the passage behind the witch that Harry uses so often. The owners know about the passage, so don't worry about getting caught.  
  
"Miss Weasley, you come with me. I need you to describe to me everything you saw. Everything you remember. Then you're going to sleep. You need to rest. If your mind crossed Riddle's - Voldemort's - then your powers and his are attracted. I don't want you to use any spells, or even touch your wand. You might draw him here."  
  
"But sir, if I drew him here, then he'd be like I was there."  
  
"Miss Weasley, his powers are far too strong. If he realizes what is happening between you, then he will snap out immediately and draw you in a more.permanent.way. Do you understand? Any magic on your part could result in the meeting of your minds. He could twist you. Your thoughts and memories could get confused. And trust me, Miss Weasley, Voldemort's thoughts and memories would destroy you, even if the effects were reversed."  
  
"I understand, Professor."  
  
***  
  
Harry twisted suddenly, a small pain jarring through his shoulder, and the bowl tipped. Harry felt a pain worse than the Cruciatus Curse in his arm - some of the blood had landed there, and it was burning his flesh. He scraped it off frantically with his shirt, screaming, burning a hole in that too, and heard a whoosh. Three of the seventeen in the circle flew backwards. He was angry, oh, yes. Voldemort looked calm. His impassive face sent a shiver through Harry's body, and an icy cold into him. There was only mild surprise, and maybe - maybe even a hint of pleasure? Relief? Harry convinced himself he was imagining it.  
  
Pettigrew went for his wand. Harry found one in his hand but also found he didn't want it. The wand shot out of Wormtail's silver grasp into the darkness.  
  
Four Death Eaters collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads, and two more were blinded by a spray of burning hot liquid.  
  
Eight left, and Voldemort, and wandless Pettigrew. He did to three of the Death Eaters what he had to Pettigrew, and Stunned two. Three wizards with wands, and Voldemort, and four wandless but otherwise fine men, including Lucius Malfoy and the bulky but stupid Crabbe.  
  
Harry used the Impediment Curse to send Crabbe flying, taking Wormtail with him and making Malfoy throw himself to the ground. Suddenly the latter was bound in black rope.  
  
The three still with wands tossed hexes in Harry's direction, and Harry reflected them back to their owners with a Deflector Screen Charm. They were temporarily out of action. Now there was a wandless wizard, easily thrown back. He did that quickly, still furious. And Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort had done virtually nothing. A cruel smile crossed his face, and he cast a bemused look to his groaning - or not groaning - Death Eaters. And he laughed.  
  
Harry heard the laugh, and was paralyzed with fear. Then he snapped out of it - had it been a curse, or simply a reaction? - and ran.  
  
Behind him, he heard the laughter cease, and a cry, but it was not Voldemort crying out. Harry sprinted away into the darkness and vanished.  
  
Voldemort did not look angry. He looked satisfied. It had happened well. The poison was in the Potter boy's body, and it would not be long now.  
  
***  
  
Harry looked regretfully at his shirt, burned where the potion, the blood, had touched it, torn off around his stomach to bind his hand. It was cold now, and his clothes were anything but warm.  
  
He was not angry any longer, and he had no wand.  
  
He shivered and glanced around. He had no idea where he was, and his hand burned; it needed attention. He didn't know how long he had been going or how far they had come or which direction. He was completely and totally lost, and cold, and very alone. He kicked at stones and tried to be angry, or frightened. He could do neither one.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore stared at the unyielding Pensieve, trying to focus, willing it to show him something. What Ginny Weasley had told him hadn't been much, but it shouldn't have been this little.  
  
Maybe there is no link, he thought. Maybe there is no pattern or clue. Maybe I'm missing the key element. Something.some piece of information.  
  
Why did they want him alive?  
  
Nothing.  
  
Why did Ginny's mind cross with Voldemort's?  
  
The Pensieve swirled at last and showed a pale, eleven year old redheaded girl. Harry appeared, twelve, filthy, very tired, and said, "Riddle took Ginny down to the Chamber. He said she struggled and." The voice faded.  
  
She struggled, against Riddle. That was it, of course, the key that the Pensieve was giving him. She shouldn't have been able to struggle. He should have been controlling her mind entirely by that time. Unless he had given her a bit too much of himself, and she was linked to him, like Harry. Or unless she was a Mindweaver as well.  
  
He considered the second one carefully. There had been three Mindweavers at Hogwarts before, to his knowledge. Gryffindor. A little boy named Casper Sace, who five hundred years ago had done great things. And Riddle, who didn't even know that he was one.  
  
Who still didn't know, to Dumbledore's knowledge. And Ginny had said he had been startled, so he assumed he was correct.  
  
It was still a chance in a thousand that they would draw to each other. But they had.  
  
So maybe they had poured too much of their souls into each other, too. Maybe Mindweaving was what had drawn Riddle to Ginny in the first place.  
  
There were many unanswered questions.  
  
***  
  
Ron shook his head and Sirius gritted his teeth. "We can't do anything, Sirius. Dumbledore's talking to Ginny now. We have to wait."  
  
"But I could do something," Sirius groaned. "I could do a Locator."  
  
"Dumbledore doesn't think it'll work. He thought he saw Voldemort shield Harry."  
  
"I could still try. I want to do something, dammit!"  
  
"So do I. C'mon, Dumbledore will be here anytime now. Are Charlie and Bill there? And Professor Lupin?"  
  
"Yeah, of course. Listen, I'm going to put Charlie on and -"  
  
"No, Sirius, don't. Dumbledore's got to talk to you. He has something he wants you to do. You can't do it if you don't know what it is."  
  
"Dammit, Ron, Harry's out there!" Sirius exploded, and Ron jumped. "He's out there and Voldemort's got him. We have to do something. He's going to die, do you understand that, he'll die! They'll kill him! I've got to do something, I'm not waiting any longer! I've got to! Lily and James trusted me to keep him safe, and I will if I die saving him! I'm going out to find him. I'm going to do something, not just sit around until they torture him to death. Charlie -"  
  
Charlie appeared and Sirius vanished. "Stop Sirius!" Ron hissed. Charlie vanished too, and Ron heard sounds in the background of someone falling, and a shout, and someone yelling for Charlie to get back, and Professor Lupin's voice yelling, "Stupefy!" Then there was a thud, and then silence.  
  
Lupin appeared in the fire, panting. "There," he sighed. "I wish I hadn't had to do that. He's a bit unstable right now, I'd guess. Worried out of his mind, like the rest of us. Do you think Dumbledore could talk to me instead?"  
  
"Probably. Did you hear the whole situation?"  
  
"Of course. Despite the fact that you can't see the rest of them, we have your head sitting in our fireplace."  
  
***  
  
Harry stumbled and fell on his burned hand with a curse. Shivering like mad, he tried to get up again and failed, so settled for lying there in the long sharp grass and slowly feeling his entire body go numb.  
  
He lay there, becoming stiffer and stiffer, and slowly realized that he would probably die here. He then slowly came to the conslusion that that was not what he wanted and that it was unacceptable, and stood very slowly up, trying not to fall again.  
  
He settled for walking now along the roadside, completely alone, no cars passing, nothing happening at all. Several times he wondered it he was moving at all because everything seemed exactly the same. He thought of Ron and Hermione and Ginny - had he really spoken to her? Probably not. It had probably been all a dream - and imagined each of them, exclaiming at his state when he walked into Hogwarts, Ron's pale face and Hermione's look of deep concern and pity, and Ginny's blank, commiserating look.  
  
Then he decided that that wasn't exactly what he wanted either.  
  
He imagined their smiles and sighs of relief and cries of amazement that he was still alive. And then they would ask him what had happened. Well, aside from his hand, it hadn't been all that bad this time, considering.  
  
Was that what he wanted?  
  
He thought of their individual responses. Of Ron, gasping and crying out in amazement. Of Hermione, asking if he was all right. And Ginny, understanding completely.  
  
That was what he wanted.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore sighed. What he needed to do was done. What they needed to do, they were doing. Everything was going smoothly, except for the fact that Harry was completely Masked and they couldn't find him, and Voldemort had him.  
  
He had considered Ginny's offer several times, turning it over and over in his head, wondering what would happen, and wondering if he could shield Ginny from its effects. He wasn't sure, and that was what unnerved him.  
  
He twirled Harry's wand between his fingers. How had they known how to mask their approach? How had they guessed? How could they have done anything without him sensing? How had they found out about the one way they could take Harry?  
  
There was only one answer. A traitor. Another traitor within those that he trusted.  
  
He had thought that he could protect Harry, but the scar burning on his forehead thought otherwise. 


	2. Part Two

Chapter Three: Roads of Forgetfulness, Roses of Truth  
  
Harry curled up in the empty shed and shivered. It was very slightly warmer in here, but the hay was very sparse, and there was just cold, bitter dirt beneath his feet.  
  
Morning would be warmer, he promised himself. Maybe he could get back out to the highway and find a car, and get a ride without attracting too much attention.  
  
But he would have to walk the cruel gravel road again, or try to climb twice over a barbed-wire fence to walk on soft earth, and neither of these options appealed to him. His feet were bound with what had once been blue shirtsleeves and now were serving for bloodsoaked purple socks. The sharp razors of grasses and the unrelenting dirt road's sharp rocks had torn the soles of his feet to ribbons, and the barbed wire of the fence had snagged his arm.  
  
The darkness was complete, inside and outside. He tried to hold onto conciousness longer. He thought of Ron and Ginny and Hermione, and imagined each of them, or tried to; the images of their faces were growing cloudly and would soon become lost in the tangled forest of his mind.  
  
***  
  
It was still nighttime, and Sirius was very agitated. It had taken Charlie, who was now the only other one in the house, almost an hour to convince Sirius that everything that could be done was being done. It had taken a further seventeen minutes, the first five of which he had ducked Stunners, to convince Sirius to stay and have something to eat before taking the extra broomstick and searching Britan inch by inch for his godson.  
  
So now Charlie was sitting in front of he stove and trying to remember how to make a bacon omelette without burning anything and attempting to ignore the indistinct sounds Sirius was making from behing him.  
  
He put the eggs into a frying pan and tapped the stove with his wand. Sirius sighed heavily suddenly, and Charlie turned from prodding the cheese and persuading it to slice unsucessfully. He stared for a moment at Sirius' pale, drawn, unhappy face, then turned back and searched several drawers until he found a meat cleaver. It would have to do. He chopped the cheese into rough slices as quickly as he could and dropped them in the pan. In the second pan he dropped four slices of bacon, and after making sure Sirius wasn't watching, added a bit of Firewhiskey to the egg and melting cheese.  
  
The bacon cooked quickly enough, and he crumbled it into the omelette. Then he turned back to Sirius. "Where are the plates?" he asked.  
  
"Third cupboard to the right of the sink."  
  
Charlie looked in the cupboard with some trepidation. To his surprise, there were plates in there, underneath a collander, four bowls, and a cobwebbed candy dish, along an empty bottle of rum.  
  
He attempted to pull two of the plates out from under the rest without touching the cobwebs; he shared his brother's fear of spiders and anything to do with them. Most unfortunately for him, the bowls were ceramic, and the candy dish was glass. Sirius just stared at the shattered fragments decorating the floor. Charlie swore.  
  
***  
  
"Harry.Harry!"  
  
"Ginny, where are you?"  
  
"It's too dark, Harry. I'm coming. Are you all right?"  
  
"Ginny, it's too late."  
  
"No! Harry, hold on! I'll get you out of here - we're looking - what is this place?"  
  
"No, Ginny." Harry stepped out of the shadows. Ginny reeled backwards, trying to gasp, to cry, to breathe. "It's too late."  
  
Black blood dripped with sickening splattering sounds onto the dirt ground from the gaping hole in his chest.  
  
***  
  
"No!"  
  
Ginny gasped and sat up. The room was empty. No. It was a dream. No. Harry.no. Her sheets were tangled around her like snakes. Were there snakes in the Chamber of Secrets?  
  
No.  
  
Yes, there were.  
  
You know what Dumbledore said!  
  
The snakes twisted and writhed, or so it seemed. And a boy stood solemn before the statue, smiling, becoming less ghostly as she fell deeper into sleep.  
  
Stop it! she cried to herself. Stop it! Cold.it's so cold.  
  
***  
  
A dark stretch of grass. A man sitting calmly on it. Alone. No, not a man. A monster. A twisted mockery. Voldemort.  
  
"Hello," he said quietly, and she jumped. She was silent. Her breath was fast. No, she moaned. Where's Harry?  
  
"I remember you," he said quietly. "Ginny. Virginia Elene Weasley. I actually found you mildly attractive then, imagine. The Chamber.Lucius gave me the diary, you see. I regained its memories. Some were lost, shattered, when your hero so wisely destroyed my book."  
  
"What." I'm talking to Voldemort. This is ludicrious. It's dark. The moon is a crescent and high, very high. There are no clouds in the sky. "What have you done to him?"  
  
"Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You," he said with some amusement, "will address me as 'my Lord' or 'Master'. Or I will kill him very slowly in front of you. I will torture him to death. I will tie his hands and feet and use the Cruciatus Curse on him until he dies. It will take a very long time, and I will enjoy it greatly. It was so easy to take him. I enjoyed hearing him scream."  
  
"He escaped?" Ginny gasped, sucking in her breath like she had been punched. "What did you do to his hand?"  
  
"He didn't escape," Voldemort said, waving his hand dismissively. "And it's his leg that hurts."  
  
"You're lying," Ginny said, shaking her head hard. "I knew Tom Riddle. You are Tom Riddle. He.you put yourself into me. But you didn't kill me. I have some of you. I can tell when you lie. I can see it and feel it. Just like you can tell when someone else is lying."  
  
"Just as I know you are lying now," he sighed. "Trying to get me to say some rubbish. 'Nonsense, dear Virginia, he's in Bristol at the apple orchard.'" He laughed cruelly. "I'm not stupid, and I happen to be quite sane."  
  
Ginny closed her eyes and focused on her room, the two empty beds, her bed unmade, the pictures on the wall, Elizabeth's Arrows poster.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"You didn't honestly think you could pull the same trick twice?"  
  
***  
  
Ron shivered and tried to warm his hands by the fire. It was dying down. He was quite sure that the common room was empty, but he kept looking around. Hermione would be back soon with Harry's wand.  
  
He remembered suddenly the last time he had done this. When he and Harry weren't talking. He had sat before the fire and rubbed his forehead and cried. Why was he so awful? Why couldn't he be a good friend to Harry when Harry was in danger. He had seen it, that night, in Harry's eyes. He hadn't put his name in. But Harry had lied. He knew why someone had put his name in, or guessed why, and so had Ron.  
  
He turned around again, wondering if he should go up to Ginny and calm her and talk to her.  
  
No, he decided. They all needed to cope in their own ways, and Ginny coped best alone.  
  
***  
  
Harry woke long before sunrise, several times. His feet were swollen and throbbed almost as bed as his hand and his forehead. He woke the final time as the first rays of morning peered through the cracks and decided to leave as quickly as possible, before things got worse.  
  
He climbed to his feet and collapsed immediately with a moan. He tried again. This time he managed to keep his balance long enough to stumble over to the wall and lean against it, nearly sobbing with the pain in his hand and feet.  
  
He looked around. The shed was empty except for the hay, and that was dirty. There were cracks between the boards. He couldn't stay here.  
  
I don't want to die.  
  
Cedric. Cedric would want me to live.  
  
No. He must hate me. I told him to take it with me.  
  
Did I?  
  
Yes, of course. It was my fault, and he knows it. It's my fault he died.  
  
I can't avenge him if I die here. I made it this far. I have to get out to the road. Maybe someone will give me a ride. I need a ride to Hogwarts, please.  
  
I won't make it that far. I'll collapse again out in the cold.  
  
No. You need to try. Think of Ginny and Ron and Hermione.Ginny, please help me.  
  
***  
  
Voldemort shook his head. "Really, Virginia, there's nothing you can do for him. Whatever I did to his hand, it will kill him."  
  
He's telling the truth, Ginny thought, staring at him, and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground.  
  
"Yes," he hissed. "Look at him now."  
  
The Dark Lord held up his hands. Above him, a smoky sort of fog appeared and expanded into an oval about four feet by two feet. The fog cleared in the middle. An image was there, and Ginny watched with a dull sense of horror, feeling sick. It was Harry, lying on his back in a ditch. His face was pale and sweaty. Blood soaked through his shirt. His glasses were gone. His hair and face were both filthy. He was moaning and gasping raggedly. "No." he moaned as Ginny watched. "Professor.please help me.Remus."  
  
Ginny realized something quite abruptly, and smiled. The image vanished, and Voldemort lowered his hands. "What is it now, Virginia?"  
  
"Three things," Ginny said, trying to make her voice cool. "One - he isn't shivering, and that shirt is thin. He'd be freezing. Two - he never called Professor Lupin 'Remus' in his life. Third - he always says 'Dumbledore' or 'Professor Dumbledore,' not 'Professor'. Therefore, that isn't real."  
  
"You aren't very bright, are you?" Voldemort laughed.  
  
Ginny smiled. "Well then," she said calmly, "if it really is him, tell me that. Say, 'That is really Harry.'"  
  
"Are you making a demand of me?"  
  
Ginny raised her chin. Harry is dying. I have to save him. "Yes."  
  
***  
  
Hermione walked into the common room. Ron was asleep by the fire. Ginny was nowhere to be found.  
  
She glanced around. Then she walked up the stairs to Harry's dormitory and opened the door. It was empty, one open window chilling the entire room. Hermione walked slowly over to Harry's bed. And she buried her face in his neat pillow, drowning herself in his scent.  
  
After a very long time, she stood and smoothed the pillow out. She walked down, then up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Something made her heart pound. When she passed the fourth-years' door, there was an icy blast.  
  
She burst into the frigid room. Ginny was lying on her bed, as if asleep. But her skin was again translucent, and her heartbeat sluggish. Hermione put a hand hastily above her mouth and felt for breath. At first she felt nothing. Then a very, very faint tickle on her palm.  
  
"Oh, God," Hermione moaned. "Oh, my God. Oh, no. Oh, no."  
  
She threw herself down the stairs and into the common room. "Ron!" she screamed. Ron started awake and saw Hermione's ghost-white face and frightened, trembling hands. "Ginny - she - I need Dumbledore immediately!"  
  
"No, I'll go up. Hermione, you -"  
  
"NO! Ron, go get Dumbledore now! As fast as you can, run!" Ron nodded quickly and sprinted out of the common room.  
  
Hermione bolted back up the stairs and into Ginny's room. Ginny was still. Hermione thought for a moment that she could see through Ginny's eyelids - but no.  
  
Hermione suddenly shivered violently, and sank onto her knees. Even when Dumbledore and Ron burst in, she couldn't stop shaking.  
  
She heard Dumbledore tell Ron to get out of here, and take her with, and tried to protest, to say she could help. Before she could say anything intelligible, she fainted back into Ron's arms.  
  
***  
  
Harry!  
  
He started. Ginny? There was no answer.  
  
He continued along the road slowly, still tripping every few steps. Just a little bit farther, he told himself.  
  
He collapsed when he got to the roadside. It looked empty. Maybe someone would come by once the sun was fully up.he would have to see.  
  
He sat up after a while and pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering a bit now. His makeshift socks had worn thorugh just as he got to the road, and were now useless bloodstained tatters. He sighed and rubbed his good hand against his face, trying to warm up.  
  
After about a half hour, a car passed without stopping. Harry sighed and lay back onto the soft grass. Someone would see him eventually, he thought. He'd just lay here until somebody stopped.  
  
***  
  
Ron paced back and forth next to Hermione's bed. He wanted to do something. He felt useless just standing here. He wanted to maybe talk to Hermione, but she hadn't stirred or made a sound since she'd fainted against him back in Ginny's room an hour ago, and he'd carried her in here and lay her on her bed, covering her warmly.  
  
He lay a hand on her forehead. It might have been a bit cool, but she wasn't too bad. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed a piece of her hair between two long fingers. It was thick and soft - he wondered if she charmed it that way. It was also very delicate and precise, like her face. He loved the way she smiled, her mouth twitching first, then curving so slowly up into a soft, gentle, almost hesitant grin. It made her eyes look happier, and her jaw stood out more in sharp detail.  
  
He remembered suddenly the Yule Ball, how beautiful she had looked, how he had seen her in a different light. It was as if someone had told him exactly how he was supposed to feel and he had felt that way - like it was perfect. The realization, the reality of when he had first seen her there.he remembered how angry he was at Viktor Krum - the nerve of him! - and at Hermione for going with him in the first place, and for not telling them that she was. He had said he was just angry because she was competing against Harry, and it had been a lie. She must have seen it, too. He felt terrible about it now, of course - he hadn't asked her - and he wished he could be given a second chance. He would ask her right away if he could try it all over again. He was sure he would.  
  
He thought of Ginny again, and sighed. Things were happening dangerously quickly.  
  
Chapter Four: Stirring of Fate  
  
Voldemort paced in a circle calmly, looking at Ginny. "Well." he said cooly. "Perhaps you're more intelligent than I thought. Oh, well. It doesn't matter. You know he's dying, and you really don't have any idea as to where he is. I'll know when he dies, of course, and I'll tell you. Maybe I'll let you go back then."  
  
Ginny! Ginny, please!  
  
Ginny started and climbed to her feet. "Where is this place?"  
  
"Yes, rather impressive, isn't it?" Ginny foced calmness onto her face and arched an eyebrow. "You're really very full of yourself." She felt an uncontrollable urge to giggle. She obviously had no idea how to address an evil overlord. She was talking as she would to Draco Malfoy.  
  
Voldemort smiled. "Yes, I rather think I am," he said calmly. "Wouldn't you be, if you had resurrected from a state of near-death?"  
  
Ginny shrugged and decided to continue. "Myself, I'm not really into the taking-over-the-world thing."  
  
What's wrong with me? she wondered. I'm having a civil conversation with Voldemort! Well, not civil. I'm mocking him.  
  
"You know, Virginia, you're very conflicting. Perhaps you're not as intelligent as you seem."  
  
"Well, the Sorting Hat didn't put me in Ravenclaw."  
  
"Yes," the Dark Lord said, sounding thoughful. There was silence a moment. Then he continued. "You know, I enjoy killing people. Do you think it would work with you?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "Most ghosts aren't really affected by the whole killing- curse deal."  
  
"You," Voldemort pointed out, "are not a ghost."  
  
Ginny pretended to reflect on this. She thought about everything she had heard about Voldemort. This was him? He was quite a laughable prat. He seemed to be almost negotiably cunning, although definitely evil, definitely Slytherin. This was the man who had killed Harry's parents?  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore sighed and settled back on his heels. The situation was seeming more and more hopeless. Everything was happening at once.he felt a dull ache from his forehead and wondered if this was what Harry endured.  
  
He had tried every spell he could think of, to no avail. He lifted Ginny's limp hand and whispered to her. "Ginny, come back." Nothing. "Miss Weasley, please, you must return to us or lose everything. Ginny."  
  
The girl took a deep shuddering breath. "N-no." she gasped. He held her hand tighter. "Ginny, come back to us. Help us. Help us save Harry. Please, Ginny, return."  
  
She woke, and Dumbledore sighed very heavily. "Please, Ginny, don't try to speak. Think about Ron. He's extremely worried about you. Good. Now," he spoke gently, and helped her to sit up against the wall, "wait here and think about Ron and Hermione while I go get them."  
  
"All right." Ginny's voice was weak, trembling, and barely audible.  
  
Dumbledore knocked on the next door. Ron answered, pale and looking as if he feared the worst. Hermione was sitting anxiously behind him. Dumbledore looked Ron in the eye. "She's awake."  
  
Ron let out his breath shakily.  
  
"You MUST NOT ask her about anything that happened, and if she starts talking about it try to change the subject. I do not want her thinking about it, or she will be drawn back."  
  
The two teenagers nodded, and followed Dumbledore into Ginny's room.  
  
***  
  
"It's not like anything I've seen before."  
  
"What isn't? There are many strange things about him."  
  
"Well, the scar, for one. The thing on his hand - it looks like a chemical acid burn or something. And his vital rates.well, they aren't good and they're very strange."  
  
"Poison - acid?"  
  
"Maybe. But he hasn't woken. And his feet are sliced to ribbons. His shirt is torn and burned. I'm going to call up Varela."  
  
"All right. Fine. And get his picture up too. We need to know who exactly he is and what the hell he was doing lying by the roadside."  
  
"What about the woman that brought him in? She's still here."  
  
"Have her come in here. I need to talk to her."  
  
A door opening, and closing. A woman's voice. "What's wrong with him, doctor?"  
  
"We really don't know, Mrs. Eisenwick. It looks like he - or someone - spilled some sort of acid on his arm. Maybe drugged him and dumped him out in the middle of nowhere. His feet are bloody too, it looks like he walked barefoot a long way."  
  
"Is he awake?"  
  
"No, ma'am. Are you sure you're no relation to him? You've never seen him before?"  
  
"I haven't. Oh, when I saw him lying there, I was so terrified, though. I thought he was dead. Poor dear.he can't be more than sixteen. And that scar on his forehead.so peculiar, like someone cut it with a razor. But it's old, isn't it?"  
  
"I'd say so. Ma'am, we're all very worried about the boy. Handiq there is getting our superior. We don't know what to do."  
  
Harry groaned, and opened his eyes. The doctor spun around.  
  
"There now son, careful. Easy there. You're in a safe place. You need to rest. What happened to your arm?"  
  
"Blood.it spilled on my arm.need to find Dumbledore."  
  
"Calm down, now, you need to just rest here. That's it. What's your name?"  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
"Where are your parents?"  
  
Harry opened his eyes again. "They're dead."  
  
"I'm sorry. Where do you stay?"  
  
"I live at my school."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"Near the.I don't know."  
  
"All right, it's okay. Now, Harry, how old are you?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
"How did you get out by the highway?"  
  
"Got kidnapped.ran away.my hand.lost my wand.need to get to London."  
  
"Wand?"  
  
"I don't know.my head.hard to breathe."  
  
"Shit. Harry, you've been poisoned. I need your legal guardian to be able to help you. Who is that?"  
  
"Sirius Black," said Harry, and regretted it instantly. Sirius' name was well-known even among the Muggles.  
  
"Harry, you must be delirious. I need to know your legal guardian. Was it Black who kidnapped you?"  
  
"No. Sirius' my godfather. He didn't do it. Get.Professor Lupin. He'll know what to do."  
  
"What's the name again?"  
  
"Professor Remus J. Lupin. He lives near Bristol, on the outskirts. Just.send someone to him. He doesn't have a phone." Harry groaned and clutched at his forehead with his good hand.  
  
"What happened to your head?"  
  
"I don't know. When I was a baby and my parents were killed."  
  
"All right, Harry, I'll send someone to find Mr. Lupin quickly."  
  
"But I need to get to London."  
  
"Kid.Harry, you've been burned and poisoned. I'd be surprised if you could stand."  
  
"If I don't get to London, it'll kill me. There's only one cure, and I can't describe how to get it.oh, God.got any asprin?"  
  
"It might react with the poison."  
  
"I don't care. It won't. I need asprin. Tell someone to find Professor Lupin. Or the Weasleys. Better yet. They live outside Ottery St. Catchpole. I think they have a phone. They can help me. I need a special kind of medicine. Call Arthur Weasley."  
  
The man nodded and hurried out of the room. Harry groaned. It had been Voldemort's plan all along. A slow and painful death. Oh, Ginny, please help me.  
  
***  
  
Ring. Ring. Ring.  
  
Molly stared at the telephone. "Arthur, that Muggle thing is ringing."  
  
"What? The telephone? It must be a Muggle - what do you think -" Arthur exclaimed.  
  
"Our name's in those books. The Muggle ones, with addresses. You registered it."  
  
Ring. Ring.  
  
"Pick it up, dear."  
  
Arthur did.  
  
"Hello? Yes, this is Arthur Weasley." He paled suddenly. "Oh, my God." He covered the mouthpiece. "Molly, Floo the Gryffindor common room." He gasped. "All right. What's the address? All right. Yes. Yes, I know who his guardians are. I'll notify them immediately. Thank you. Tell Harry we'll send Dumbledore. Just say the Headmaster, then. Fine. Goodbye."  
  
Arthur turned to the fireplace.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore looked up as Hermione walked into Ginny's room again. "Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley's Calling. He says it's a matter of life and death."  
  
Dumbledore stood quickly. "Stay here, please, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione nodded and sat down where Dumbledore had been next to Ginny. The old Headmaster hurried down to the common room. As soon as he knelt before the fire, Arthur spoke in a shaky but quick voice. "Headmaster, what the hell is going on? Harry.Professor, I just got a call from a Muggle hospital. They have him. He's been poisoned. They think he's dying. His hand is burned deep with some sort of acid, they thought. His heart rate is sluggish. It's hard for him to breathe. He said he ran away from the man who kidnapped him. Very groggy. A Muggle woman found him half-dead and frozen by the side of the highway about an hour ago."  
  
Dumbledore's mouth was half open. "Address," he breathed. "Give me the location."  
  
Arthur did so. Then - "Voldemort, I assume?"  
  
"Yes. Many problems. They caught Harry and I both, and let me go, God knows why. I can't talk now. I'll Call you later. Call Charlie, tell him to tell SB that they've found him."  
  
"SB. Sirius Black. Molly told me. Ron told her. Do the other kids know? Ron and Hermione?"  
  
"Yes. Goodbye, Arthur."  
  
Chapter Five: Strings of a Puppet  
  
Dumbledore looked up and down the hallways and became visible again. He hurried to the front desk.  
  
"Excuse me, I heard they brought in a boy about an hour ago. Harry Potter. I need to find his room number. I'm his Headmaster. His guardian couldn't immediately be reached."  
  
"Room four-oh-seven. I'm sorry.he's not expected to live."  
  
"He will. I know what he needs."  
  
"I hope so, sir."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Dumbledore hurried up to the fourth floor. The hall was mostly empty. Outside room 407 sat a middle-aged woman. "Hello," he said to her quietly. "Were you the one who brought Harry in?"  
  
"Oh - yes," she said, flustered.  
  
"I'm his headmaster. I hope to be able to help him. Where did you find him?"  
  
"On the highway, about six miles east and ten south. I hope you can help him."  
  
"So do I. Thank you so much for bringing him in. He's more important than you will know."  
  
"I just hope he makes it," the woman said. Dumbledore nodded, put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, took a deep breath, and walked into the room.  
  
Harry lay on a bed against the wall, apparently asleep. A doctor sat in a chair by his side, watching him silently, not turning when Dumbledore came in. The old wizard's breath caught when he saw Harry. His face was very much like Ginny's had been; almost translucent, and his breathing was unsteady and fast. One hand on the covers was bandaged, and his shoulder.  
  
He slowly approached Harry's side. The doctor looked up at him. "Are you his headmaster?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "How long do you give him?"  
  
The doctor shook his head. "I don't know. A week at most. He'd probably drop into a coma after about two or three days. He'll suffer. I've never seen this before."  
  
"Doctor, I can help him, but not here."  
  
"Are you suggesting taking him out of here? Hey, how did you get here so fast, anyway. Got a plane or something?"  
  
"Or something. Yes, I suggest taking him out of here. He has a chance of survival then. He has none here, correct?"  
  
"Not unless there's a miracle. You're mad if you think I'd let you take him."  
  
"There's another hospital that has the cure. I'm taking him there."  
  
"Sir -"  
  
"Thank you very much for helping Harry. I'm sorry, doctor. Stupefy!"  
  
Dumbledore sighed and lifted Harry. He seemed light, but his face was pale and shadowed, and his head hung limply over Dumbledore's arm. He Apperated directly to St. Mungo's.  
  
***  
  
"Ron, they found Harry." Hermione's voice trembled.  
  
"Oh, God. Is he."  
  
Hermione flung herself onto her bed next to Ron. She buried her face in Ron's chest, and he hugged her awkwardly. "Hermione, is he."  
  
"He's been poisoned," she sobbed into his sweater. "They give him a week if they can't find a cure. He'll go into a coma in three days. Oh, God, Ron."  
  
Ron sat stiffly in one place, his arms wrapped around Hermione, his mouth hanging open. "Is he at St. Mungo's?" he whispered. Hermione nodded against his chest.  
  
"Then we've got to go there," he said, and she straightened, her face streaked with tears. "We've got to see him. Come on."  
  
"But Ginny -"  
  
"We'll take her too."  
  
"But if she sees Harry she'll think about Voldemort."  
  
"Don't say his name, dammit! No she won't, she'll think about Harry."  
  
"I know, Ron, but if there's a chance."  
  
"There is. Let's ask her then. If she wants to come."  
  
"Oh, Ron, don't be stupid, of course she'll come. She won't think of herself, she'll think of him!"  
  
"Yes - him, not You-Know-Who!"  
  
"Ron, she can't use magic anyway. She can't even touch her wand. It's safer here. She can go later."  
  
"She's going to kill us for this."  
  
"I know. I don't care. She can't come until later."  
  
"Hermione."  
  
"I know, Ron."  
  
***  
  
Charlie sat down heavily. Sirius turned to look at him. "What'd he have to say?" Sirius asked.  
  
Charlie took a deep breath, but couldn't speak.  
  
Sirius drew in a ragged breath. "Did he.he's not."  
  
Charlie shook his head. "They.they found him, alive, but he's.been poisoned, and they don't know.they don't know what to do.gave him a week, three days of it concious.God. What'll Ron say?"  
  
"Ron's already there," Sirius whispered. "Where? St. Mungo's?"  
  
Charlie nodded, shocked and silent again. Sirius Disapperated.  
  
***  
  
Ron stayed on his feet this time, and coughed. Hermione was already there, waiting for him and brushing soot off her shirt. She nodded wordlessly to him and walked into the hallway.  
  
"What are you looking for?" a small voice squeaked. A house-elf stood right at Hermione's knee.  
  
"Harry Potter's room."  
  
The house-elf's expression saddened. "Fourth floor, three doors to the left," it said.  
  
Ron nodded, and the elf turned away.  
  
Dumbledore was talking to a mediwizard gravely outside the door. He nodded to Ron and Hermione, and they walked into the room together.  
  
Harry lay on the bed in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling. He glanced over at them as they walked in and tried to smile. "Hey," he whispered hoarsely.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes. "Oh, my God," Ron breathed.  
  
"Don't worry," Harry rasped. "I'll be all right."  
  
Hermione trembled. "Don't try to comfort us, Harry," she told him, voice wavering. "Of course you will."  
  
"Is Ginny here?"  
  
Ron shook his head. "She's."  
  
"Coming later," Hermione finished, and Ron nodded.  
  
Harry sighed, and closed his eyes briefly. "Have you heard from Sirius?" he asked, eyes still closed.  
  
Ron replied quietly. "Briefly, before they found you. He was completely panicked. Professor Lupin ended up Stunning him to stop him going and doing something stupid."  
  
A mediwizard came in and checked Harry's pulse quickly. He nodded to himself grimly, then gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to Ron and Hermione and hurried out. Harry sighed.  
  
"Who brought you in?"  
  
"A Muggle woman," Harry answered, squinting as if trying to remember something from years ago. "I collapsed by the side of the highway somewhere.it was freezing.and the next thing I remember was a voice telling me to hold on. Then I woke up in a Muggle hospital for a while. I don't remember that much. I think I asked them to call your dad, Ron."  
  
"Dad and Mum'll be here any minute now then," Ron muttered.  
  
The door burst open to admit Sirius, Lupin, and Bill. Hermione glared at them and put a finger to her lips. Sirius gasped and hurried to the side of Harry's bed. Lupin and Bill stood in front of the door as if frozen.  
  
Harry grinned dimly up at Sirius. "Wondered when you'd come," the boy murmered hoarsely.  
  
"Oh, God, Harry," Sirius groaned, and hugged him clumsily. Harry didn't move. "I'm going to be fine, Sirius," he said in the same rough, quiet voice. "Don't worry."  
  
Sirius glanced back at Lupin and Bill. Lupin moved forward next to Sirius, and Harry smiled again, hazier than before. Bill moved to behind where Ron stood still and silent and put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Ron looked up into Bill's face and sighed shakily like a child whose parent wakes them in the middle of a nighmare, but who is still unsure as to whether it was real. 


	3. Part Three

Chapter Six: Fading Stars  
  
Ginny sighed and wiped sweat from her face. She wanted to call out to see if Ron was around, but couldn't seem to make her throat work. She stood, and felt the warmth of the floor beneath her feet. She heard the patter of her feet on the floor as she crossed the room to the door and opened it.  
  
Quiet. Why is it so quiet?  
  
She climbed to Hermione's dormitory. Maybe she's asleep, Ginny thought. But the door was open, and the room was empty.  
  
Where are they? They wouldn't have left me here and gone somewhere else, would they? Maybe they're in Harry and Ron's dormitory. Yes. She'd go there.  
  
But when she swung open the door with the creak of something ignored, that room, too, was empty.  
  
Maybe they'd gone to get some food. Hope they got some for me if they did.  
  
She thought about checking the kitchens, then frowned down at her pajamas - a sky-blue flannel gown that was too small and patterned with strange wiggles and zigzags. She had loved it when she was eleven. Three years ago.  
  
I'll have to change. Then I'll go to the kitchens and see if Ron and Hermione are there.  
  
She started to shut the door of Harry's dormitory, but something caught her eye. A little leather-bound book on Harry's bedside table. It's none of my business what he -  
  
Never mind.  
  
She walked over and picked it up, sitting on his bed. She flipped to the middle and drew in a breath.  
  
Oh, Harry. Your parents.  
  
His father smiled at her, then grinned at the small baby in his arms. The red-haired woman - Lily Potter - had an arm around James and was laughing so hard she was crying.  
  
Ginny slowly flipped through the pages. All of them showed Lily and James, and some showed Harry too. One showed another man. Sirius Black? And Lily and James too, wearing a beautiful white dress and a tuxedo. They were all grinning madly. Harry's parents' wedding.  
  
But on the last page was a picture that made Ginny cry.  
  
She remembered it being taken vividly. She remembered Colin's lit-up face when Harry asked him to do it.  
  
She stood a bit in the background. Harry was talking to her and Ron and Hermione. It had been the second of September. The weather had been gorgeous. They were all wearing their school robes, out on the front lawn. The Quidditch pitch was visible behind them. They had all been happy - not careless by any means, but Harry for the moment wasn't thinking about the Dark Lord, which was a definite improvement.  
  
A teardrop fell on Ginny's lap, narrowly missing the book. She closed it and set it where it had been, and cried.  
  
***  
  
Ron woke with a guilty start. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around the room.  
  
The mediwizards had given them permission to stay with Harry.  
  
Sirius' head was on his chest; he was curled into a ball against the wall by the side of Harry's bed. Hermione was next to Ron's chair, her head resting against its side. Lupin and Bill had gone, and Dumbledore had left right before Ron had fallen asleep.  
  
He stood slowly, making sure not to wake Hermione, and walked over next to Harry. He looked both older and younger. His face was stripped of its pain and worry and fear and tenseness. But Ron could see Harry's burned hand on the covertop, and the muscles tensing and loosening in his wrist. His breath was slow and hard and jagged, and as Ron watched he shook his head back and forth three times. It reminded him of the summer after his second year. The first night home, he had snuck into Ginny's room to watch her sleep, and she'd been muttering and shaking her head. After Riddle, he had hoped she might be able to get beyond what he left her, the black spot where his trail went alongside hers. But she hadn't.  
  
Ginny.  
  
Oh, no, Ron thought with a moan. How could I do this? I forgot Ginny! She doesn't know where we are.  
  
Do I go back and get her? Do I Call the common room? Do I wake Hermione and have us both go back to Hogwarts?  
  
I'll go back and get her. All right.  
  
He shut the door behind him quietly. A mediwizard sat writing something on a scroll. He walked up to the man, who glanced at him.  
  
"If one of them wakes up, tell them I've gone to get Ginny." The man nodded, and Ron headed back to the first-floor fireplace.  
  
***  
  
Ron tripped and landed painfully on the common room floor. He coughed and looked up. Ginny sat in a chair before him. An uneaten plate of food was next to her. She was fast asleep.  
  
Should I wake her?  
  
Yes. Of course.  
  
He tiptoed over to his little sister and shook her shoulder gently. Her brown eyes opened slowly, and she stood.  
  
"Where the hell did you go?" she demanded.  
  
"St. Mungo's," Ron replied, half wearily, half irritably.  
  
Ginny covered her mouth. "They found Harry?" she asked through her fingers.  
  
Ron nodded. "But he."  
  
"Why didn't you take me, Ron? God, you're such a.a.I care about him too, you know! It's not just you! You and Harry and Hermione - well, you could have told me! I thought he was still out there, somewhere, cold and alone and dying of whatever poison they -"  
  
"How do you know about the poison?"  
  
"Voldemort told me."  
  
Ron shuddered, not looking at her. "You say it like he's a student or a mediwizard or someone you talk to all the time. We thought if you saw what Harry's like you'd think of him, and we didn't want you to.cross with him again or whatever. It's dangerous!"  
  
"Well, I don't care. I'm going to see Harry now."  
  
"He's asleep."  
  
"All the better."  
  
"So are Sirius and Hermione."  
  
"I haven't met Sirius yet. I'm going. I can think of Voldemort, you git, just not..."  
  
"All right, all right. Let's go."  
  
***  
  
Sirius was still asleep, but Ron was gone. Hermione stood and looked around. Harry hadn't woken yet either. She glanced out in the hall. A mediwizard glanced at her. "He went to get someone named Ginny."  
  
"Oh. Thanks."  
  
She sighed and went back into the room. Harry's face was white, and without his glasses his age was unreadable. He could have been anywhere between twelve and twenty. She sighed again, heavily, and sat down in Ron's empty chair to wait.  
  
After about two minutes, Ron and Ginny eased the door open. Ginny covered a gasp with her hands. Hermione heard a little moan from the red-headed girl and nodded hello to her. Ginny shot Sirius a glance, then looked back to Harry and sank to the floor.  
  
"He's dying," she said after a minute.  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"How long does he have?"  
  
"Six.maybe seven days. He'll go into a coma in two or three and." Hermione stifled a sob and couldn't finish.  
  
Ginny nodded, unbeilievably calm, not shaking. Her eyes were anguished, but she seemed otherwise normal. She wasn't crying. She rested her chin on her arms on the bed near Harry's head.  
  
"He asked if you were coming," Ron added, his voice consticted and quiet. "When we first came in."  
  
"Yeah, well.I talked to him, when he was a prisoner. Dumbledore.does anyone know what the poison is?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, back and forth, several times.  
  
"And it's killing him." No one answered; it wasn't a question anyway. "Voldemort wanted it to be slow. And since we don't know what it is, we don't know if there's an antidote." Her voice was flat now. "Harry didn't say anything about it?"  
  
"No. I doubt they told him what it was." Ron tried to steady his voice.  
  
"Have Mum and Dad come?"  
  
"No," Hermione said. "But I expect they will."  
  
Ginny nodded, lifting her head off her arms. "Well, then, there isn't much we can do until he wakes up, is there?"  
  
Ron's eyes flashed, but he didn't say anything. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, the expression on her face one of both confusion and sadness and helplessness. Sirius stirred a bit, shifting his head and muttering something incomprehensible, but didn't wake. Harry lay still, and Ginny returned her eyes to him.  
  
Chapter Seven: Playing With Fate  
  
Harry's dreams were troubled, and when he awoke the sense of helpless anger didn't fade. Ginny had come. She, Sirius, Ron, and Hermione were all asleep. Ginny's outstretched hand was very close to his, her knees tucked beneath her on the cold floor and her head resting against the bed. Sirius was by the head of the bed, curled up against the wall, tossing his head back and forth. Ron and Hermione - well, Hermione was sitting in the chair Ron had been occupying when Harry fell asleep, and Ron was in the position Hermione had been, next to the chair. Hermione's right hand was entwined with Ron's right, and her left hand was on his shoulder. His other hand was on top of her left hand.  
  
Sirius shifted and muttered something, then gasped and woke. His expression melted when he saw Harry was awake.  
  
"Hey," Sirius whispered. "How are you?" Harry noticed how careful he was not to wake Ginny.  
  
"I'm all right, I guess." His speech didn't reflect his words; his voice was almost inaudible and still very raspy. "You?"  
  
"You are such a prat," Sirius muttered. "Always worrying about other people. Never caring about yourself."  
  
"No time to care about myself," Harry said dryly. "I'm s'posed to save the world."  
  
"Yes, well." Sirius sighed. "You're lucky your friends care more than most friends do. You'd never have made it this far otherwise."  
  
"I know," Harry agreed. "Like when I was going through the tasks. Never could have gotten through it without them. I mean, I understand Ron's point of view. He didn't see what reason anyone else would put my name in for. Wasn't his fault."  
  
"That's not what I mean," Sirius said irratibly, and Harry let out a croaky half-laugh.  
  
"I know," he said after a minute, his voice sober now. He sighed heavily.  
  
"This Ginny?" Sirius asked, indicating her and breaking an uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, and smiled through cracking, dry lips. "Pretty, huh?"  
  
Sirius nodded. "You like her? Because, well, Hermione seems to have been claimed."  
  
Harry laughed again. "Yeah, I guess I do. She always understands, you know? She never asks about what happened. I mean, I did like Cho Chang, and we're friends too. But I understand that too. It's too painful for her. Because seeing me reminds her of Cedric. And neither of us want to betray his memory. But we're friends, because I understand what she's feeling. Ginny, though.she's different. She's met Tom Riddle. And, well.it really comes back to the understanding. This year, it's been more the four of us than the three of us. Ron and Hermione understand when I can't answer questions, or I need to be alone, but no one understands like she does. I can talk to her when I can't talk to anyone else, and I think it's the same way around."  
  
Sirius nodded, and didn't say anything. Harry continued.  
  
"And Ron and I.well, when we thought she was dead in our second year.it was indescribable, the feeling I felt. That nothing would ever be happy again. That the sun shouldn't shine again, and tease us with its joy. That the stars shouldn't come out at night, because they'd be looking on a world without Ginny."  
  
"I know that feeling," Sirius said quietly, his throat dry. Harry didn't have to ask him what he was talking about, who he meant.  
  
***  
  
"Master."  
  
Voldemort turned quietly away from the window.  
  
"Yes, Lucius?"  
  
"Master, forgive me for my curiousity. What would we have done if the boy had not spilled the bowl?"  
  
"We would have had an accident, and it would have tipped over and fallen onto his hand, Lucius. The same means would have been acheived. But he was bound to tip over the bowl.the silence we kept, and the chant.he thought, of course, that it was a spell to strengthen me. So he decided to heroically prevent it. He understood, of course, after he ran. I am sure that will torment him until his death. Or at least, until he becomes comatose." Voldemort laughed coldly. "It was easier than I thought. He killed himself. It was not I who truly did it. I am not bothered by that. Once Harry Potter is dead, my true power will be freed, and I will regain that which he took from me. I will recapture that fool Dumbledore. It was too easy, the first time. It will be harder now, much harder. But the death of the last Potter will tear at him so. I've done worse than kill him. I've hurt him. And I wish to continue hurting him. I will kill him slowly. I will kill the students, those who he loves the most. Then I will put him under the influence of the only remaining strain of the Imperius Potion - he would be able to throw off the curse. And I will force him to kill his friends, one by one, letting him know that each is his fault, lastly Severus Snape, who betrayed me. Then I will burn his school before him and throw him, under the Body-Bind, into the licking fingers of the remaining flames of Hogwarts."  
  
***  
  
Ginny woke slowly, and kept her eyes closed. She didn't move. She heard two voices; one she had never heard before, that of a deep-voiced man, the other Harry's rough whisper.  
  
"Well, she's the sort of person who can't really hate. Ron and Hermione can, but Ginny.I think there's only one person she hates, and that's Riddle. She hates him the same way I hate him. I mean, it's more personal than the way other people hate him. He tore our lives apart. You can see it in her eyes, sometimes, and tell that she's thinking about him. She's been separated from the world the same way I have. And she's very pretty; she always has been. I was drawn to her from when I saw her at King's Cross the first time. But the biggest part of it is how we understand each other's hate as much as we understand anything else, and like no one else can."  
  
Then Sirius' voice answered. "I wish I could say I know what you're talking about."  
  
Harry laughed hoarsely. "To know what I'm talking about you'd have to hate someone an awful lot."  
  
"Well," Sirius said, and his voice changed dramatically, becoming sharp and harsh. "Peter. But even you don't hate him the way I do. I know how much you hate him for what he did. But.I don't know how to put it."  
  
"I hate him because he stopped me from knowing my parents, because I never did. But you knew them, and loved them.I know, I know. I can't hate him as much as you because I don't know who my parents were. And we both hate him for the lives he gave us.Azkaban, and the Dursleys. Seems a bit silly, really. On your part. The Dursleys are angels next to dementors."  
  
There was a silence. Then Sirius spoke again, changing the topic. "I want to meet the Dursleys."  
  
"Yeah, so you can turn them into bats."  
  
"I was thinking more along the lines of pigs."  
  
"Ferrets," suggested Harry, and laughed. Ginny had to hold her breath to stop at least a smile.  
  
"Mongooses. Mongeese. Mongoose. However the plural goes."  
  
"Potatoes."  
  
"Lobsters."  
  
"Ballons."  
  
"Come on now, enough with inanimate objects, that's murder, and from experience, I can tell you that the sentence is not pleasant. Spiders."  
  
"Aardvarks."  
  
"Squirrels."  
  
"Fine. Squirrels."  
  
"All right. I'll have to arrange a meeting."  
  
"Uncle Vernon works from nine to four at Grunnings. Drill company."  
  
Sirius laughed. "Righty." Then his voice became sober. "I hope you'll get to watch it."  
  
"Listen, Sirius," Harry said quietly. "I'm not going to die. I'm going to be fine. Dumbledore will find the antidote."  
  
Ginny stirred, pretending to wake sleepily. She did her best bemused-blink and lifted her head off the covers. "Harry!" she said, and did a fake yawn and a fake guilty face. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine, Ginny. Oh. This is Sirius. Ron told you about the whole thing, didn't he?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "I know he didn't do it. Don't know the whole story. But now doesn't seem to be the time.oh, look at Ron and Hermone!" She giggled, genuine amusement making her brown eyes sparkle. Sirius grinned.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Ginny. Harry's told me a lot about you." Harry looked mortified, and tried to hide it. Ginny felt her heart leap.  
  
The door opened, and a mediwizard came in. Ron and Hermione were woken when the door shut loudly behind him. He looked apologetically at them, and they shrugged.  
  
With a sideways glance at Sirius - Harry and Dumbledore had both vouched for his innocence, and the officials had agreed not to tell the Ministry - the mediwizard spoke grimly. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid we have some bad news."  
  
He proceeded to tell Harry and the rest that they had no record of this poison or any possible antidote.  
  
Chapter Eight: Remember Again  
  
It was two days later that the foursome - Sirius, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione - lost their hope for a miracle.  
  
Harry's waking time had become gradually less and less, and every time he fell asleep they wondered if he would ever wake again. Meals were brought to them in Harry's room, and the hospital officials gave them extra cots, as they refused to go back to Hogwarts.  
  
Easter holidays were almost over, and Dumbledore was frantically searching for some record of the poison. He would come to check on Harry once a day. No one had seen him so worried or powerless-seeming before. Word had not leaked out to the public yet of Harry's poisoning yet, which surprised them all.  
  
All the Weasleys had been around at one time or another. Percy had come, sober and shooting questions about the poison at every mediwizard he saw. Fred and George had visited twice, both silent and troubled. Ginny had thought that the second time, when Harry was asleep, Fred had almost been crying.  
  
Her heart ached for her parents, who had sat by Harry's bedside for three hours and talked to him while he was awake. Her mother was constantly on the edge of breaking down, and her father was pale and anxious and worried out of his mind. She had never seen him this way.  
  
There had also been other, completely unexpected visitors. Just the previous morning, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour had walked in together. Ginny had no idea how they had found out, although she had a strange suspicion that Hermione might have told Krum. Fleur had been fairly subdued, asking him if he was all right, making sure he wasn't too tired to talk. Krum had talked about Quiddich, and asked Harry if, when he recovered - Ginny noted the definate when, not if he recovered, and the confidence in the almost-twenty-year-old's voice - he'd like to practice a few times with Viktor and his team. The tall young man also mentioned that he had played in a match against Oliver Wood, who after the game had been moved permanently to the English team even though he'd been soundly defeated. Viktor added that the Bulgarian Chasers hadn't been able to make any goals and it had been a 150-50 game lasting a total of ten minutes. Their visit seemed to have the prospect of cheering Harry up.  
  
However, he still slept through a great deal of the day. The poison was multiplying in his blood, and with each hour he grew weaker. His face bruised from nothing, and his eyes reddened, and his lips became sore and swollen. He talked less and less, and his voice faded to a fragile, faint whisper.  
  
***  
  
The mediwizards had told Ginny what she wanted to know, and what she didn't want to know. They were the same thing.  
  
"You'll know when he slips into the coma," the sandy-haired young man had told her softly, putting a big hand on her shoulder gently. "I'm really sorry. But if he's your friend, you'll know. The others will too. That's the way it is with magic-induced stasis. Those who love him, all of them, will feel it. It'll hurt. It's going to feel like someone betrayed you, and then you'll probably just feel cold and alone. Talk to the others. It might help you share your pain."  
  
But she knew that when the time came she wouldn't be able to.  
  
She had trouble speaking. There was only one window into Harry's room, but when she looked out it at night she could watch the moon rise. She didn't leave the window until it slipped out of sight above her.  
  
The days were cold and long, and Ginny felt empty wherever she was. Harry's going to die. Harry's going to die.  
  
She had given up all hope, and she wondered if the others could see it.  
  
She stared out at the near-full moon and watched it rise with an eerie sense of deja vu. She remembered suddenly sitting in her dormitory and staring at the moon and crying the night she realized she was the one attacking everyone. Was this like that? Would she be able to live without Harry? No. No, she wouldn't.  
  
I hate you, Tom, she cried out to no one in her mind. I hate you for ruining my life again.  
  
The moon rose slowly and mournfully.  
  
***  
  
The mediwizard was right. She could tell.  
  
They were gathered together in Harry's room, silent as always, the four of them, Harry, and now Lupin. The professor looked tired, more tired than any of the rest. Of course; the full moon was approaching.  
  
Ron was asleep on his cot. Harry was staring at the ceiling. Lupin and Sirius were talking so quietly that no one could even hear their voices. Once in a while, Harry's reddened eyes would flicker across the moon. It had been a long time since he had spoken, and Ginny knew the time was approaching.  
  
He blinked tiredly, wearily, and gave a small, regretful sigh. Hermione's eyes were huge and terribly sad. Not taking her eyes off Harry, the bushy- haired girl gently shook Ron's shoulder. Ginny watched them, and saw Ron follow Hermione's eyes.  
  
Sirius suddenly took a shuddering breath and he met Ginny's eyes. Lupin closed his and nodded. It was almost time, and they could all feel it.  
  
Ginny and Sirius and Lupin came to one side of Harry's bed, Ron and Hermione to the other. Harry's swollen lips twitched, and his eyes shimmered with the same unshed tears that the rest of them were trying to blink away. Harry reached out his hands, and Ron took one of them, Sirius the other. Hermione buried her face in her hands.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. Sirius shook his head, and touched Harry's cheek, releasing his godson's hand. Harry reached up slowly and touched Ginny's shoulder. She bent her head over him, and he lifted his head up and kissed her forehead. A tear fell on his cheek, one of Ginny's. Harry's eyes closed, and he slipped into blackness. The rise and fall of his chest became more even, though still hard. "No," Sirius moaned. Ginny buried her face in Harry's pillow, his black hair tickling her forehead where he had kissed her. She heard Ron's torn whisper. "Harry."  
  
"No," Sirius whispered again. Hermione's sobs and Lupin's silence made everything worse, and Ginny felt the sense of emptiness the mediwizard had warned her about.  
  
***  
  
"It's happened," the mediwizard said quietly, and Dumbledore closed his eyes. "I know," the old wizard sighed. "I felt it."  
  
"I'm sorry," the mediwizard said. "You still haven't found anything?"  
  
"I.have a way I might find something." Dumbledore sighed. "But I'm not sure, and it is very risky. It could kill him if I did it."  
  
"If you don't, he'll die anyway," the man sighed. "We can't do anything. What do you suggest?"  
  
"A spell, one that will allow us to look into his memory. Very unstable, and not thoroughly tested. But I can't think of another way to find it. What it was. I might also try a Pensieve with what the young Weasley girl saw and heard."  
  
"I suppose it's the only thing to do," the mediwizard breathed sadly. "The five of them are still in there with him - they're all completely distraught, of course. The boy, the redhead, said the last thing Mr. Potter said was an apology."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "That's very like Harry," he said wearily. "He cares more about other people's feelings than he does his own."  
  
***  
  
"Anything," Sirius said quietly. "If there's even the smallest chance we could help him - we'll do anything."  
  
"I need your permission, as his godfather, to do what I need to do. But I need to make sure you understand. Even if it works, it's explosive, and if I cannot contain the power of the spell, it will seep into Harry. If this happens he could die. We'll see things exactly as he saw them. I need to make sure I time it right as well - if I activate his memory of unconciousness, I will be stunned and the energy will surge into him without me sharing it, and that would kill him instantly."  
  
"He's going to die if we don't find the antidote, and if this is the only way to do anything." Sirius took a deep breath. "I." He let the breath out and closed his eyes. "All right. Do what you need to. But is there any way to have someone else share the power of the spell? So it doesn't go into Harry?"  
  
"There might be.if we both used the same wand, held it at the same time.but it could hurt you, and if you try to take too much.it is complicated, and quite dangerous."  
  
"Could I try it with you? Please, Dumbledore?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded slowly. 


	4. Part Four

Chapter Nine: Inside a Memory  
  
They said the incantation at the same time, and gripped the wand tight. The others watched in silence and hope. Ron and Hermione held each other's hands tight. Ron reached out his free hand toward Ginny, but when she didn't take it he let his hand drop. Lupin's eyes were fixed on the same point as Ginny's.  
  
From Harry's mouth suddenly burst a cloud, and all around them, the hospital room vanished and was replaced by a dark place and nineteen people. They were seeing as Harry saw. Outside the circle Lupin and the others stood quiet. Sirius could feel Dumbledore's wrinkled hand tighten on the wand.  
  
Dumbledore felt the power flying into him, and Sirius tried to draw the power too. They watched as they passed Wormtail, and Sirius seethed and sucked more of the spell's power.  
  
They stood for a long time in the silent center of the circle. As time passed, Sirius drank at more and more of the power, feeling it fill him. Ginny's voice, and Harry's, revebrated in his skull. It began to hurt, holding so much power, and hearing his godson's voice. I have to save Harry, he reminded himself, and drank on more.  
  
The bowl was passed around the circle. The chant began. Dumbledore felt how much power Sirius was drinking. .the blood of seventeen.Sirius, forgive me. He shoved Sirius aside and felt Harry's godfather's fingers slip off the wand. The power rebounded, and Dumbledore wanted to stagger backwards as it hit him. He didn't. The images around him flickered and rippled like disturbed water.  
  
Harry growled suddenly and knocked the bowl aside. A splatter of silver and blood landed on Harry's hand, and drops spilled onto his shirt. He screamed, and began to knock the Death Eaters backward, Stun them, Disarm them. Voldemort was smiling; his purpose was achieved. Dumbledore felt a surge of pain as he drew the last of the power. He dropped his wand. The image faded, and blackness came to Dumbledore. He was falling.  
  
***  
  
Suddenly, when the pain escalated to agony, Sirius felt Dumbledore push him. His fingers slipped from the wand, and he stifled a cry. The power and pain vanished. He watched Dumbledore's expression contort in concentration. He watched Harry's actions, heard the bloodcurdling scream from his godson's mouth. Then he watch the wand clatter to the floor. The picture faded, and he was back in the hospital room. He climbed to his feet and watched Dumbledore collapse. Lupin caught the old headmaster and eased him onto a cot.  
  
Dumbledore woke about ten minutes later. He let out a shaky breath and stood quickly. His expression darkened as he turned to Sirius.  
  
"I warned you," he sighed. "You tried to take too much; more than you could hold. I couldn't siphon it from you. If it overflowed, it wouldn't feed to me, it would go to Harry." His face became sharp and severe. "You could have killed him, and possibly me as well."  
  
"I'm sorry," Sirius said quietly. "I just.seeing Voldemort, with Harry.I couldn't stand it."  
  
"It's over," Dumbledore said, and sighed. "You couldn't have changed it. Blood of seventeen, though." He turned to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, who still stood, motionless. None of them had seen this Voldemort before. "Miss Weasley. I may need your memories in a Pensieve. I need to see more of the making of the potion. I'm beginning to put the pieces together, but I'm still not sure if there is an antidote. I may need the blood of the seventeen again to do anything, and that is impossible."  
  
***  
  
"Do you think he'll find a cure?"  
  
"I don't know." Ron's voice was dull.  
  
"Do you want to talk about something else?"  
  
"Like what? Quidditch? Schoolwork?" Ron laughed harshly. Hermione agreed silently. It would be impossible to carry on any other conversation. After a moment he continued. "I want to talk about Harry."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"I don't know," said Ron quietly. "I feel so terrible about what I was like after the Goblet spat out his name. I think I knew that he hadn't put his name in, but.I don't know what it was. I feel awful about it. I know I was being cruel, and I missed his company. But.the night he talked to Sirius, when I came down, I was going to apologize. But he was so angry, I couldn't. My stupid pride." Tears of pain and shame swelled in his eyes. "And when he threw the badge at my head. 'Something for you to wear on Tuesday. If you're lucky, you might even have a scar.that's what you want, isn't it?' That hurt, and I didn't know how to apologize. I was afraid he wouldn't listen."  
  
"I tried to convince him to tell you what he'd told me, and to talk to you, but he wouldn't. He was mad, Ron. He was so hurt you wouldn't believe him.but then he was so happy after you two started talking again. You know, I wonder what would've happened if you didn't believe him even then, and then you found out you were the thing he'd miss most in the Second Task."  
  
Ron shook his head. "I don't know," he sighed. "But the thing that really got me was how readily he forgave me. He forgives so easily, it's amazing."  
  
"He loves Ginny, you know," Hermione said quietly. "He really does. You can tell. And she loves him."  
  
Ron nodded. "I don't know what'll happen to her if he doesn't.she won't be able to.I mean, you've seen what this whole thing has done to her.she won't want to live. And Voldemort.he.no one can stop him."  
  
"I know," Hermione said softly, and rested her head against Ron's shoulder. "And I.I feel like I was in a car, and it crashed, and no one came and helped me. I'm just stuck there.I can't get out.oh, God, Ron, is it even possible? For him to die? He's always been - I don't know. He can't. He always makes it, no matter what happens. He recovers, and he hurts for a while, and then he opens up and talks. And eventually he'll smile again, and things will be different but they'll be all right because he made it again."  
  
"Did Dumbledore take Ginny to use the Pensieve?" Ron asked.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Yes.I don't know what good it will do. She said she couldn't see what Pettigrew was doing."  
  
"That silver hand." Ron said suddenly. "I saw in the bowl, when they passed it around, it was silvery and reddish with blood. Do you think."  
  
Hermione's mind raced. "I don't know." she said quietly. "The hand, though. It wasn't that. But.Ron, do you think.no. Wait.I need to talk to Dumbledore."  
  
She stood quickly and hurried out of the room, leaving Ron to stare after her and wonder.  
  
Chapter Ten: The Moon Rises Again  
  
".essence of Demiguise hair. It's fatal when it enters the bloodstream. A second defense precaution, to make certain that nothing will eat it."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "The blood." he said quietly.  
  
Hermione's eyes glinted. "It mixed with the powdered Runespoor spine. It's like a lock on the poison and made it completely unrecongnizable. It was seventeen people who hated Harry. I think that's why Pettigrew didn't, because he doesn't fully hate Harry.I think.that we'd need the Demiguise antidote and powdered Roonspoor spine mixed with the blood of seventeen people who love him, or fifty-one drops of blood from someone who loves him, or.something like that."  
  
"Brilliant," Dumbledore breathed. "Simply brilliant. Exactly like Voldemort, of course. And exactly like you, Hermione, to find it. Who else would have thought of it? Naturally, the blood was all different, so it was like seventeen different ingredients. No wonder they couldn't recognize it."  
  
"What is the antidote for Demiguise poisoning?"  
  
"It's rare, and difficult to make, but I'm sure Professor Snape could."  
  
"So.he's not going to."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, and the twinkle returned to his eyes.  
  
***  
  
Ginny sat alone now by Harry's bedside.  
  
"When I was eleven," she whispered, "I found out that I was being taken over by a boy who was a memory.I boy I thought I loved. And then I realized that he had tricked me and used me all along. I tried to tell you, but I couldn't say it, not in front of Percy.and then he took me. I can't imagine what Ron went through that day, when you all thought I was dead.But you came and saved me, even though you still weren't sure if I was alive, because you're Harry. That's why I love you so much, why I have for these years. Because you're Harry, and you're good and strong and you always know what you have to do, and you aren't afraid to do it. Because you're Harry, and you can't die, because your work isn't done. Because I love you." She stared at his still, swollen face. "Listen to me, Harry Potter. You can't die. Do you hear me? You can't die. Don't even think about it." The door opened behind her, and Hermione flew in.  
  
"Ginny," she gasped. It was obvious she'd run all the way here. "We've.found.a way.to save him.Demiguise hair.blood of seventeen.not going to die."  
  
Ginny rose slowly to her feet, not believing what she was hearing.  
  
"He's going to be all right?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "If they can make the potion in time."  
  
Ginny's breathing became quicker, and like a drumroll against her ribs her heart pounded. "Where are Ron and Lupin and Sirius?" she asked finally. Hermione smiled.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore watched Severus Snape add the final ingredient to the potion and stir it. It became a clear, watery bluegreen and splashed against the sides of the cauldron in little waves.  
  
"Is it finished?"  
  
"Yes, Headmaster. I must admit I am quite relieved.I thought it would be all but impossible to find out what this poison was. The Granger girl figured out what I could not."  
  
"Hermione is quite the student. I would hazard that she rivals Riddle himself in her brilliance. But it's different. She is wise and perceptive and remembers everything she sees and hears and reads. Riddle was.is cunning and can foresee the move and understand the mind of his opponent. He's almost a Seer. And then the situation with Mindweaving, of course. something will have to be done about that."  
  
"Yes, Headmaster. I'm already looking into it. I'm not very optimistic about finding anything, however."  
  
"That's all right, Severus. I already have some ideas myself. Give me a proper draught of that antidote, please."  
  
Snape did as was requested of him, and also handed Dumbledore the jar of powdered Runespoor spine. He looked back to the cauldron.  
  
"Do you intend to be one of the seventeen?"  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore answered simply. "The boy is special. I know you disliked his father, Severus."  
  
"Disliked.that's a bit of an understatement, Headmaster."  
  
"If you say so. In any case, I would very much appreciate an effort on your part not to see Harry as James. Harry is very different from his father, and you need to treat him equally.it isn't his choice who his parents were, although I am sure he wouldn't change them.if you would give him a chance."  
  
"I'll keep it in mind, Headmaster."  
  
"Thank you, Severus."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
***  
  
The cluster of people talked in quiet tones. The Weasleys were all there, of course, all nine of them, and Hermione. Sirius and Remus. Fleur and Krum, and Cho Chang. Oliver Wood, who was talking animatedly with Viktor Krum.  
  
Dumbledore's arrival silenced them, and they all turned to him quietly. In his gnarled hands he held a bowl with a bright blue liquid in it - the green had faded with the addition of the essence of Runespoor spine.  
  
Dumbledore took out a small knife and made a tiny cut on his palm. Three drops of blood dripped into the bowl. The liquid shimmered.  
  
He passed the knife and the bowl then to Ginny, who did the same thing he had done. She passed to bowl to Ron. Then it went to Hermione. Slowly, silently, it made its way around the room. When Cho handed it to Dumbledore, the antidote was a deep, rich purple.  
  
All seventeen of them walked slowly up the stairs to Harry's room. His face was more swollen than ever. Cho's breath caught in her throat. Wood's eyes became haunted and hollow.  
  
Dumbledore opened Harry's mouth and tipped the contents of the bowl into it. He helped the boy swallow, stroking his throat gently. In his sleep, Harry sighed and relaxed.  
  
It was that night that he woke, that night after most of them had left, after Remus had gone home, and the moon was full. Ginny hadn't left, and she stared out the window again.  
  
***  
  
Harry laughed. "No I didn't!" he cried in protest. "Hermione, you're twisting it!"  
  
"You did too," Ron agreed. "You said it, you did, don't lie -"  
  
"I didn't," Harry laughed, looking to Ginny for support. "You don't believe them, do you?"  
  
"Of course you did," she said quietly. "It's just like you to deny it, too." She let him brush aside a strand of fiery hair and tuck it behind her ear. He smiled as it fell back into place by her eye.  
  
"All right, I did," Harry sighed resignedly. "And if you ever, ever tell anyone, I'll turn you all into squirrels."  
  
"You wouldn't," Ron said.  
  
Harry looked at the ceiling innocently. Ginny saw him wrap his fingers around his wand behind his back and tried not to laugh. Then he pointed his wand at Ron and with a loud BANG they were staring at a red-haired squirrel.  
  
Ginny and Harry and Hermione cracked up. Ron the squirrel looked utterly ridiculous. He bit Hermione on the ankle sharply, and, still laughing, she Transfigured him back. He joined them in laughing, and the sun shone gladly though the stained glass of the window. 


End file.
